


To Dream

by Racethewind_10



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childbirth, Dragon Queen - Freeform, F/F, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racethewind_10/pseuds/Racethewind_10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In her weakest moments, when she can't sleep and the night closes in, when she feels the baby stir within her for the first time, Mal gives in to the longing and imagines Regina riding up the path to her lonely mountain home, clad not in black velvets and brocades, but the soft leathers of brown and dusty red, the colors Maleficent had first seen her in. She imagines Regina dismounting, a smile on her lips and the madness gone from her eyes. </p><p>She imagines Regina staying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Written at kshaar's urging, and for Tree (for reasons) in response to one of Kayryn's stunning manips. Fuck canon, Regina is Lily's other mother AU.

Maleficent dreams. There's little else to do, hiding away alone in her cave. With pregnancy comes fluctuations in her magic, the fire that moves in her veins waxing and waning unpredictably as her body changes to accommodate the life growing in her womb. She is often tired and sometimes cranky at the way her body seems no longer under control, but she's never been this happy...or this terrified.  Dragon hunters are rare in these times but a few still roam these lands; arrogant knights and foolhardy princes looking for glory or gold or an easy way into a princess' bed. Maleficent has never feared them until now, when she can't depend on her magic and fears Changing into her other form. Maybe the Change would bring no harm, but any other dragons who have given birth are long dead or far, far away and Maleficent has no books, no stories, not even whispered lore to tell her, to give her some kind of assurance the child would survive. She won't take that risk, and so she remains human, and hidden, as far from towns and villages as she can get before travelling – even by magic - becomes too much of a strain.  

Cruella and Ursula send word they will come and join her, guard her when the time comes to deliver, but the journey is long and even if they leave now they won't be here for months. So Maleficent passes the days alone in the cave that water and time and her own magic have carved into the side of a small mountain. It’s comfortable enough for one not wholly human, large and sheltered from the wind with room for her things and a fire, and the view is stunning, the Enchanted Forest stretching out below her all the way to the sea, a single glittering line on the distant horizon, though she hardly appreciates it now. The sea in her memories is much kinder, much dearer to her. Maleficent remembers the way the salt spray felt beneath her wings, the chaotic air currents pushing and pulling at her body a thrilling challenge. She remembers Regina on her back, laughing, wild and unguarded and fervent in her passion afterward, dark eyes sparkling and flesh so incredibly warm, wet and welcoming with desire for Maleficent’s touch as they pressed hard against each other, the sun mellow on their skin.  

It's been years since she's heard that laugh and it pains Maleficent to know their child was mostly likely conceived in anger, that the life inside her was wrought from the frantic, desperate coupling that had long since eclipsed tender touches and gentle smiles, and created in the twisted, complicated wreckage of emotion that would always tie her to Regina. Even as the hollow place beneath her ribs aches with the loss of what was, however, Maleficent wishes for the chance to see Regina just one more time. 

It's a foolish wish. 

Regina made her choice, as Maleficent knew she would. After all, she had been there for nearly every step of the smaller woman's descent into madness and obsession and who was Maleficent to cast judgement on the form of Regina's pain? Who better than Maleficent to understand with agonizing intimacy just what drove the woman they now called “Evil.” That yawning void inside her that sucked all light, all joy, all hope into it, the dark cold voices that whispered everything would be better once she had her revenge, these things Maleficent knew like the touch of a lover.  She knew just how seductive that idea was, knew how deep it could sink its claws into a person's heart. Regina had drawn Maleficent back out into the light, taken her hand and shown her it was possible to leave behind her anger and pain, but now she herself was lost, and Maleficent was too weak to save her, knew even before she came to Regina’s castle one last time that she, and the baby she now carried, would not be enough to bring back the fierce young woman Maleficent had fallen in love with.

Some treasures, once lost, can never be regained. 

The great and terrible Queen that Regina has become is far away now, Maleficent having travelled beyond the borders of Regina's kingdom before seeking shelter, but distance does nothing to lessen the ache of loss. 

And so Maleficent dreams. 

Standing at the edge of the cave looking out on the green and blue expanse of the world, or lying in her bed in the dark of night, she rests her hand over the growing swell of her belly and lets herself imagine what could have been. Behind closed eyes, images form, and it’s easy, so easy to pretend that Regina is here with her, delicate fingers covering Mal's own where they rest over their child; so easy to imagine Regina's lips on her brow and her familiar magic, warm and dark and comforting, cradling Maleficent as she brings their daughter into the world.

Some days, Mal dreams about the look in Regina's eyes when she holds their little girl - their Lily - in her arms for the first time. She can't know the child's appearance for sure yet, but Maleficent always imagines her with Regina's eyes, dark and wide and beautiful, that sharp intelligence and curiosity the dragon remembers so well passed on from mother to daughter. 

In her weakest moments, when she can't sleep and the night closes in, when she feels the baby stir within her for the first time, Mal gives in to the longing and imagines Regina riding up the path to her lonely mountain home, clad not in black velvets and brocades, but the soft leathers of brown and dusty red, the colors Maleficent had first seen her in, back when the young Queen's heart was still as full of hope as anger. She imagines Regina dismounting, a smile on her lips and the madness gone from her eyes. 

She imagines Regina staying. 

And oh, those are the best and  _worst_  dreams. Because it’s so easy to let her mind construct the vision of Regina, sleep tousled and soft, smiling gently in the early morning light with Lily in her arms, rocking her back to sleep; Regina by her side, tucking their little girl into her first bed because she's too big for her crib now; Regina teaching Lily to ride, to do magic.  Sometimes the thought is too much and Maleficent shoves the dreams away, gets up to read a book or walk outside and watch the stars because Regina and Lily and magic and  _family_  and all of it slipping through her fingers like mist. Sometimes though, the lure of the fantasy is too great and she gives herself up to it, falling willingly into the visions of her daughter's laugh and Regina's smile and sparks dancing in the air like butterflies. She dreams of Lily's first Change, her dragon form perfect and beautiful, even if she is adorably uncoordinated at first. _And flying_. 

Maleficent dreams of flying. Of teaching her daughter about the winds; how to catch them in her wings and master them, how to let them carry you as far as you want, but always home again. She dreams of Regina standing below them, worried and proud as she watches Lily's first flights; Regina on her back just like the old times, their little girl not so little anymore as she dips and weaves and flies circles around her mothers.

Maleficent dreams of birthdays and holidays and frivolous anniversaries that mean nothing and everything because they are an excuse to be  _together_. 

But always the dream ends and she wakes, chest tight and hollow and lungs too small, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. 

Sometimes it’s enough to rest her hand on her belly and feel the strong steady pulse of her daughter's life force, to feel the connection between them and remind herself that she can do all that she imagines without Regina, that Lily will always know love and safety, no matter how she was conceived.  Sometimes Maleficent can convince herself that her love will be enough for her baby.

Sometimes the emptiness is too great and the tears fall, blurring her sight.

Even the darkest night ends with the rising of the sun, however, and Mal has learned to keep going, to get up each day and face the light. To live, even if she's utterly alone. Even if it hurts.

Regina taught her that, and that knowledge, like the child growing inside her, is a gift Maleficent vows never to squander.

 

* * *

 

 

She goes into labor late, and alone. There’s been no word from Ursula or Cruella and if Maleficent had energy to spare she would fear for them. Flighty Cruella might be but Ursula is a rock and both of them are loyal. They wouldn’t abandon her without reason, and certainly not without informing her why. Cruella’s narcissistic need for an audience would prevent that if nothing else.

But she can do nothing. Lily is coming and as a contraction grips her body, Maleficent can only struggle to breathe and spare a hope her two friends are still alive somewhere.

She loses track of time, the sun rising and setting has no meaning here in her cave where her world narrows to the next breath, the next heartbeat, the next surge of pain and those spaces between them that grow ever smaller. There's only the burning that flashes down her spine, the white hot bands that roll across her body like thunder and the periods in between the contractions when she breathes and tries not to panic because she has no one and with each passing hour the doubt in her ability to bring her daughter into this world grows.

Only the knowledge that there is no choice but to endure keeps her going and her fingers claw marks in the stone to pass the time.

* * *

 It comes with the night - a pressure like a storm on the horizon that Maleficent hasn’t felt for months. Exhausted, her mind fogged with pain and weariness, it takes her a long time to realize what she’s feeling,  _who_  she’s feeling. Too long to raise the wards even if she had the strength to do so.

Regina appears in her cave in a swirl of deep purple smoke and she is - of course - nothing like the softer dreams of Mal’s hope. Clothed in black and deepest purple, with a high collar and metal armor glinting, her eyes as black as the night outside and far, far colder, Regina has buried herself completely beneath the Queen and Mal knows a different kind of fear.  It never entered her mind that Regina might truly wish her or the baby harm but seeing her now like this is - 

And then a particularly strong contraction grips her body, curling her forward and tearing a cry from Mal’s chest and she loses sight of Regina, can’t do anything but exist, heartbeat like a bell ringing in her ears until the spasm eases and she falls back against her pillows.

When she can focus again she opens her eyes, blinking in surprise tempered by weariness to see Regina now at the edge of her bed, having moved when Mal was distracted. Regina’s face is as closed and impassive as ever but there is something in her eyes…something Mal knows better than to think might be gentleness but but they aren’t as cold as they were and the anger is gone from the line of Regina’s shoulders, her spine not quite so stiff. If Mal didn’t know any better she’d say Regina was shocked, even uncertain. Which is ridiculous because what did Regina expect, Maleficent had told her she was pregnant why…

“You didn’t believe me,” she rasps, understanding dawning. Maleficent sags further back into the cushions, flinching at the feeling of fabric sticking to her sweat-dampened skin. There is sweat slicking her hair and she’s shaking, the loose linen robe she’d worn to bed yesterday half untied and wrinkled, the fullness of her breasts and swell of her belly exposed. She knows how she must look, and a part of her wants to glare at Regina, angry that she would think Mal would lie about something as important as a child but the ire flickers and fades, nothing more than a candle flame blown out in an instant. Once, she would have acted just as Regina is, she can hardly blame the other woman now.

“I thought,” Regina’s voice is rough, cracks, then steadies, cools. “I thought you lied. When you told me you were with child, I saw another ploy to weaken me.” She doesn’t say ‘can you blame me?’ and Maleficent doesn’t respond because what is the point of these words between two people who understand the twists and turns of rage and revenge and anger as a shield against weakness as well as they do.

“But then you left and didn’t return.”

And maybe it’s the weariness, maybe it’s just her traitorous heart daring to hope but Maleficent thinks she detects a softening in Regina’s tone.  She can’t bring herself to look though, her eyes are closed, concentration turned inward. She can almost feel her daughter’s impatience, straining at the edge of her awareness like a whisper from another room. They can’t communicate, not really, but Maleficent thinks _‘soon_ ’ thinks ‘ _I love you’_ and tries very hard not to let her fears take hold.

Another contraction takes her, scattering her thoughts like leaves before a gale and when it passes, Regina is sitting on the bed, as close to the edge as possible, her whole body rigid but her face…for the first time in so long, Maleficent thinks she sees a flicker of emotion other than anger in those beautiful dark eyes.

Still, this is Regina, and Mal’s love doesn’t make her a fool. When a tentative hand, pale against the gleaming black of leather gauntlets, rises toward her, Maleficent holds Regina’s gaze, struggling to find the strength to keep her voice steady, to make her tone mocking and harsh. She’s never been more vulnerable but she can’t afford to show it.

Cracked lips curve in a tired smile. “Are you here to kill me, Regina?”

The hand jerks back as if from a flame but Maleficent is watching Regina’s face and she sees, she sees not anger, not rage but _shame_. Only for a second but this isn’t Maleficent’s wishful thinking, the crack in the mask is real and a tiny bit of hope surges in Mal that the woman she loves is still in there, somewhere.

Whatever answer Regina might give, though, is carried away on a fresh wave of pain. The contractions are close together now, and Maleficent so desperately hopes this means it won’t be much longer. Her eyes shut tightly, fingers gripping the sheets and she sucks down oxygen like she’s drowning, drowning…

And then the pain is just… _gone._

Rich and warm, Regina’s magic slips into her blood, holds her up as it pushes the pain away. A broken sob of relief drags its way out of Maleficent’s chest as she sags into the bed, opening her eyes to see Regina has shifted closer now, one hand resting so lightly on the swell of Mal’s belly the dragon can barely feel the touch, but the effect, oh she can feel nothing else but that.

And inside her, she feels their daughter respond.

They both gasp as the soft pulse of magic – so like their own but different, new, pure – flickers out and through both of them and Regina’s mask doesn’t crack it _shatters_ , emotion on her face raw and shining and it’s so beautiful that Maleficent forgets to breathe, just stares and stares and Regina stares back, as if she is truly seeing Maleficent for the first time.

When the next contraction comes, Regina’s magic keeps the pain away, makes it dull and distant, pressure but not the twisting agony like her muscles are tearing themselves apart.

“What do you need?” Regina asks when the contraction passes, her voice soft, soft even in her dark armor and her dark makeup, soft like her gentle, gentle touch.

“Stay,” Maleficent says and doesn’t care that she’s pleading. She can feel the instinct to push gripping her and Regina is looking at her in fear and wonder and she's too weak, too worn down to stop from hoping. “Please stay.”

Regina doesn’t answer but her thumb sweeps back and forth in a tiny arc on Maleficent’s skin and when the next contraction takes her, Regina’s magic stands between her and the pain once more. 

Pain, but not pressure, because nothing can stop that and Maleficent remembers the sea in the distance, the great waves building and building only to finally crash onto the shore. Giving birth is like that for her, the roar of her effort like the rush of waves inside her, drowning everything out until with a last scream it fades, giving way to a higher, angrier cry as her daughter at long last leaves the sea of her mother’s body and enters a new world, one that to her is cold and too bright and she is angry to find herself in it.

Shaking, tears in her eyes and muscles trembling, Maleficent is too weak to do what needs to be done, to reach the supplies – cloths and warm water and blankets and a silver knife – she’d laid out earlier. Before she can despair of her body’s failure, though,  there are gentle hands and a warm wet weight on her chest and Regina, Regina is putting their daughter in Maleficent’s arms, her hands sure where Maleficent’s tremble, holding and drying and swaddling their little girl while all Maleficent can do is stare at this tiny, wrinkled, pink, squalling thing who clearly inherited her lungs from the dragon's side of her parentage. 

"She's perfect." 

Its the only thought in Maleficent's head and it takes her long moments before she realizes it was Regina who said the words out loud. She doesn't look away from her little girl, and she doesn't disagree. Instead trembling hands come to cradle her daughter and she forces muscles as firm as water to let her bend head and kiss the wisps of sable hair on the top of her head. 

It's Regina who uses the silver knife to cut the umbilical cord, who places another blanket over Lily who has begun to quiet as she adjusts to this new reality, pressed against the skin of her mother's breast. It's Regina who strokes Mal's sore belly and carefully helps her be rid of the afterbirth, a twist of her hand sending the bloody towels and blankets into the fire. An infant's blood, a dragon's blood, these are powerful components of many spells and the realization that Regina is protecting her and their child...Maleficent blinks, reality and the present crashing back into her. Lily snuggles at her breast and instinct guides Maleficent's arms, shifting her daughter until a tiny mouth closes around her nipple. There is a slight sting and then, oh.  _Oh_. 

She looks up at Regina and sees the same awe on the smaller woman's face. 

"Lily," Maleficent whispers, "Say hello to your mother." And to leave no doubt, she looks up and holds Regina's eyes as she says the words, sees the woman she has loved enough to create a child staring back at her with all her masks crumbled around her like dust. The armor, the dark makeup, on _this_ Regina they look like a costume, as if the young woman Maleficent knew is merely play-acting. 

Lily nurses and Regina reaches out, a single finger stroking their daughter's downy cheek. 

“Hello, Lily,” she breathes and her voice is soft, so soft.

Contentment steals through Mal's weary body, creeping like a slow tide through her bones to replace the now-treasured pain of birth and Maleficent feels sleep tugging at her. The cave is warm and outside the sun is rising, a clear day dawning and Regina is by her side. It won't last, Maleficent knows this, but she's weak and she is happy, and so she lets herself dream just one more time. 

"Stay," she whispers, looking up at Regina, at the way the sun's first rays make those dark eyes glow, lambent and captivating.  "Stay with us for a little while." 

Regina doesn't answer, but the sun climbs higher over the trees, and she doesn't leave. 

 

* * *

 

 

The next chapter begins where their story began, in this room, Maleficent’s rage and despair a miasma blackening the walls like smoke, her anger the only keeping her heart beating. Now laughter rises on the air like the dust motes glittering in the sun streaming through the tall glass windows that when Regina first saw them, were covered in grime, cracked and falling inward with neglect. They shine now, like the wood paneling that gleams warmly while the threadbare furnishings have been replaced by rich velvet and soft leather.

Maleficent twists her hand and rainbow light dances around the room, picking up a pair of obviously well-loved stuffed toys and making them bobble in mid air. A little girl’s delighted shriek is answered by a deeper, richer chuckle and Maleficent doesn’t bother to fight the smile on her face.

Three years have passed since that night on the mountain. Maleficent never again asked Regina to stay, but she has anyway, and with each passing day, Maleficent fears less and hopes more.  Regina still wears the dark colors and high collars, but the armor rests on its stand and her eyes are warm and gentle, her laughter coming easier with each turning of the seasons, and with each inch Lily grows.

Lily, who looks so much like her mothers, has all the bearing of both of them, with Maleficent’s chin and Regina’s eyes and sable hair that glints with gold in the sunlight.  She hasn’t made her first Change, but Maleficent thinks it will be soon. She delights in flying, held securely in Regina’s arms as Maleficent bears both of them aloft, Lily’s laughter joining her mother’s as great wings carry them over their combined kingdoms and out to the sea.

The Dark Curse was destroyed a year ago, on the anniversary of Lily’s birth and though there is still a reward for Snow White’s capture, Regina has pulled her armies back. Now they guarantee safe passage of travelers along the kingdom's well-maintained roads and keep bandits from the villages that prosper under the rule of two powerful magical queens.

It’s more than she ever dared hope for, this life that Maleficent wakes to every day, Regina’s skin warm and soft against her own, her heartbeat steady against Maleficent’s breasts, her daughter safe and loved and happy, tucked into her own bed in the adjoining room. Beyond everything Maleficent dared to dream about in her darkest moments, there are still nights she fears it won’t be there when she opens her eyes the next day. Those are the nights she curls up in the chair in the corner of Lily’s bedroom, watching her little girl sleep, her perfect features unlined by worry.

Somehow, Regina always knows and either joins her in silent vigil, or pulls Mal gently back into their bedroom, shutting the door and easing the fabric from Maleficent’s shoulders, replacing its impersonal touch with lips and tender hands until they are both sweaty and sated and Regina will bring her close, arms sure and tight until Maleficent surrenders to sleep.

* * *

 

In Maleficent’s study, Lily’s toys dance and when she reaches out for them, tiny sparks shoot from her fingers, making her giggle and her mothers look at each other knowingly.  They always knew this day would come.

It’s Regina who gathers Lily up, kissing her cheek and telling her they are so proud, guiding a tiny hand and showing her the very first steps of how to control the power inside her that comes not from anger, but love.

Maleficent watches them both, eyes wide open, watching another dream become reality.

 

Fin

 


End file.
